It Must Be Magic
by MarieQuiteContrarie
Summary: Neal receives an unexpected morning visitor—his six-year-old brother, Gideon—landing him smack in the middle of a family drama. Rumple never dies and neither does Neal. Floof family feels with Gideon Gold and his baby sister, Isabelle (Missy) Gold. (For the full Gold Family 'verse story, read Passing Inspection, then The Birthday Brag, then this)


_Rat-tat-tat. Rat-tat-tat. "Psst! Hey, Neal! Neal!"_

The whispering, coupled with the insistent tapping on the bedroom window, disturbed his pleasant dream. He heard his name whispered again, and snorted himself awake, blinking up at the ceiling fan.

Still the whispering continued, getting louder and more demanding. A flash of red entered his peripheral vision, and he became aware of a small yet powerful presence hovering outside the master bedroom window.

"Gid?" Neal squinted at the dreamcatcher through the sun-streaked glass. "Kiddo, is that you?"

Grumbling under his breath, Neal threw back the covers and rose to open the window. His little brother scaled the siding and hopped over the windowsill with the exuberant grace of youth.

"It's five o'clock in the morning and all decent people are sleeping," Neal said around a yawn. "What are you doing?"

Gideon peered over his shoulder at the smooth, empty side of the bed and ignored the question. "Where's Aunt Emma?"

"On her back in a field of wildflowers, till you woke me up," Neal complained.

"What?" The boy cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Never mind." He rubbed a hand over his face, flicking the sleep out of each eye with his thumb and sighed. "Moms' weekend with Regina and Henry. What happened this morning? And why can't you use the door like normal people? You could have broken your neck!"

Gideon twisted his mouth and moaned. "Aunt Regina's not here either?"

Neal chuckled. The kid wasn't the only disappointed one. "Sorry buddy. You're stuck with me."

"Where'd they go?"

"New York."

"Ohhhhh! Statue of Liberty?"

"Prob'ly."

"I wanna see the—"

"Yeah, I know." The kid had been obsessed with the monument for months. He probably wanted to see if he could make it disappear or something; he was always plotting his next magical feat. "Maybe in a couple weeks, if you're good. Now quit changing the subject. How did you get here?"

The kid rolled honey brown eyes that were far too discerning for his six years. But what else would he expect from the son of Rumplestiltskin and Belle Gold? Shrewd like his father, resourceful like his mother, and with the combined stubbornness of both. "Walked." Gideon puffed out his little chest and crossed his arms. "It's not _that_ far, Neal."

"Is everyone ok? Your mom? Missy?" Neal asked, heading toward the en suite bathroom to relieve himself. Gideon followed, watching his every move, and Neal shrugged. Guys had to pee first thing; it was a fact of life.

"Yeah, she's good…now." Gideon stood behind him, rolling his eyes in the mirror.

Fighting back laughter, Neal decided to wait a while before unpacking that statement. Missy, whose birth name was Isabelle, was Gideon and Neal's baby sister. When she was born, Gideon started calling her 'Issy' because he couldn't pronounce Isabelle. From there the nickname evolved to Miss Issy, until everyone in town referred to Belle and Gold's infant daughter as Missy.

"Do Pop and Belle know you're here, kid?"

Eyeing his sleep-deprived reflection, he washed his hands then scratched his whiskered cheek. Shaving could wait till tomorrow.

"No." Gideon pulled a pout, his little mouth drooping. "Papa's mad at me."

Neal was unsurprised. The oldest and youngest Gold men had been crossing swords a lot lately. "How'd you get past his wards?"

"He forgot about the window."

Neal smiled thinly. It was rare, but when Pop was angry, his magic sometimes got sloppy. "What'd you do, shimmy down the drainpipe?"

"Nope." Gideon's grin was cheeky. "Tree outside my window."

Neal shook his head and plunked back down on the bed. He looked longingly at Emma's smooth pillow, wishing she was here to do the maternal stuff. He had a bad feeling Gideon's visit must be about magic, and that was his wife's department. Or Regina's. He'd welcome either one of them at this moment with open arms. "You and windows. Thank the gods you didn't fall! You're lucky we're not driving to the hospital right now to see the doctor. So what happened, Gid?"

His chin wobbled and he cast his eyes to the floor. "Alls I wanted was for Missy to stop crying. Mommy was upset. She said Missy's teeth hurt. I made it better."

Neal huffed out a breath. "That doesn't sound too bad."

"Papa said it was. He said I had no bidness, uh, innerfacing."

"Interfering?" Neal corrected gently.

The kid tugged one of his pixie ears, identical to their dad's. "Yeah. Ok."

"What did you do?" Neal leaned back against the pillows and crossed his arms behind his head.

Gideon plopped down at the foot of the bed, bouncing lightly on the mattress. "I sang her a magic lullaby, but I guess I did it wrong."

"How's that?"

His cheeks turned as red as his t-shirt. "All Missy's teeth came in at once. Big ones. She looked like a bunny."

Neal smothered a chuckle at the image of their six-month-old baby sister with a mouthful of twelve year molars and giant frontal buck teeth. "I think this conversation calls for food. Come on, let's get some breakfast." _And coffee. Lots of coffee._

The boy shook his head and scratched at the comforter like a sad puppy. "Not hungry."

"Awww, come on." Neal raised his eyebrows. "We may not have New York City, but we have New York bagels."

"Blueberry ones?" Gideon sent a hopeful glance in the direction of the kitchen.

Neal looped his arm around his little shoulders. "Would I steer you wrong? I even have blueberry shmear."

Ten minutes later they were seated side-by-side at the breakfast bar with bagels and cream cheese. Gideon was cramming bites of bagel into his small cheeks like a squirrel, and with his large, brown eyes and soft brown hair, Neal chuckled at the comparison.

"What about your mom?" Neal asked, pouring a glass of milk for his brother. "Was she mad?"

Gideon sipped his milk and frowned. "She laughed, then Papa acted mad at her, too." His voice dropped to a whisper. "D'you think they're fighting 'cause of me?"

Neal's heart tugged, understanding the root of his little brother's misery. "No way." He swiped at the kid's milk moustache with a gentle finger. "Listen, Gid, it's never your fault when adults argue, ok? Besides, no one loves your mom more than Papa does. Even when he's angry, he still loves her."

"Papa said Mommy's tired and I need to make things easier. I try to help, but Missy…she's such a baby," he spat the last word, an expression of disgust creasing his small forehead. "She can't walk or talk or cast a spell. She ain't no fun!"

" _Isn't_." Neal shuddered. "Gods, don't let your mother hear you say ain't!"

"Better than Missy. She can't say isn't or ain't!" Gideon flicked his fingers. "Watch this!"

The kitchen exploded into a whirling dervish of gold and red nuggets, popping and flying, until Neal was ankle-deep in Captain Crunch Cereal. "Whoa!" He bounced on the barstool, then gripped the edge of the countertop to keep from landing on his ass.

He looked at his brother. Gideon's eyes were wide as he scanned the room, his face contorted with horror. Crunchberries littered his hair. "Oh no! Neal, I'm sorry!" The sheen in his eyes told Neal tears weren't far behind.

Neal brushed bits of cereal off both their bodies and smiled. "Forget about it, buddy."

If shenanigans like this were regular occurrences in the Gold household, it wasn't too hard to decode why Papa and Gideon were at odds. The old Victorian where they lived, once filled with knick-knacks and antiques, had been cleaned up and childproofed after Gideon's birth. Even his father's shop, cluttered and dusty as it could be, was a shrine to organized chaos.

Truth was, he felt sorry for the kid. It hadn't been easy growing up with such a powerful father, and Neal wasn't even magical. He couldn't imagine the burden of being in the shadow of the one of the greatest sorcerers who had ever lived; of being born with abilities you had no idea how to use.

"But…aren't you gonna tell Papa?"

"You know me better than that." Neal winked and stomped his feet in the piles of cereal, producing a satisfying crunch. He grinned. "We'll wait for Aunt Emma and Aunt Regina to come home and fix it." _That will teach them to go off on a fun city weekend and leave me alone to deal with all this magic._ He kicked some cereal into the hallway for good measure, laughing as it skidded across the floor.

Instead of joining in the fun, Gideon frowned at the mess. "Everyone likes Missy better 'cause she's normal. You like her better, too."

"That's not true," Neal said, his heart clenching at the kid's woeful tone. "I love you both the same, but for different reasons. You have a special gift."

"Papa doesn't think so." He chewed his lower lip. "Mommy laughs when I do tricks, though, even when they make trouble. How come?"

Neal stroked his beard. Belle had never been phased by magic, unless Papa was using it for wrongdoing. His father was the one who had a hang-up about it, especially where his younger son was concerned. Papa knew the dangers, the consequences to magic; more than anything, he wanted to protect his family from its often harrowing price.

That fear was something that Neal understood all too well. He'd spent his childhood railing against his father's curse, then later watched him subdue the darkness for the sake of his loved ones. Now Neal was married to the Savior and close with Regina. He'd always loathed magic, but living with it was the consequence of being part of this extraordinary family. And if there was one thing Neal had learned from Belle and his father, it was that if you loved someone, you had to accept all the things about them, good and bad.

Neal pushed his empty plate away. "Your mom—she has this incredible ability to see beyond people's actions to their intentions. She always sees the good in everyone, even when they don't deserve it. Even me."

Gideon's eyes were as wide as Frisbees. "For real? You were bad?"

He smiled grimly, recalling his jealous rage toward Belle, and how he'd called her a colossal mistake who would only steer his father down dark paths. But Belle had done the opposite, bringing light and love into his father's life and making their family whole. "Yeah. I remember when we first met. I was totally wrong about her. Actually, I wasn't a very nice future son at all."

"You weren't?"

"Nope, but look how great everything turned out." He ruffled the kid's dark crop of hair. "As for your sister, cut her some slack, ok? You didn't do a thing but cry and eat and poop for years and we still loved you."

"You said poop!" Gideon broke into a fit of giggles.

Neal grinned at him. Children were so resilient. Resilient and easily distracted.

"Can I have some of your coffee?"

And impertinent.

Neal yanked the mug closer and rescued a soggy bit of cereal before it sank to the bottom of the cup. "Not a chance. We're not stunting your growth on my watch, pal."

* * *

"It has to stop, Belle." Rumplestiltskin jostled Missy on his knee, trying to soothe the hungry infant while Belle stirred together rice cereal for her breakfast. "Last night it was the business with Missy's teeth. On Tuesday, he made her bark like a dog. Last week, he brought her stuffed animals to life and made them fight to the death!"

Belle stopped mixing the baby food and looked out the kitchen window. Her shoulders were shaking and Rumple narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Stop laughing, Belle!"

"I'm sorry, Rumple. It's just listening to you talk about dueling teddy bears…" Another burst of laughter, then she turned toward him, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. "I can't seem to help it."

"Giving his sister scales so the animal rescue van would come and pick her up?" He shuddered as he shifted the baby on his lap, thinking back on his own reptilian ugliness. "We have to get Gideon's magic under control."

Belle's eyes flashed with mischief. "I'm rather fond of scales, myself," she said, then returned to hulling strawberries as though nothing was wrong. "Can you put Missy in her highchair, please?"

Rumple strapped the baby into her seat, irritated that Belle wasn't taking Gideon's waywardness seriously. "Mommy's not listening to Papa," he complained to the infant, who in turn bopped his nose with her wet, chubby fingers.

Two pairs of identical blue eyes blinked at him. Rumplestiltskin sighed; he was well and truly outnumbered. If only Neal were here, then someone could side with him.

"I hear everything you're saying, Rumple." Belle started spooning cereal into Missy's mouth. "But Gideon's only a little boy and adjusting to a baby sister is hard after having all the attention for so long."

"Giddy!" Missy gurgled and Belle gave her a fond smile.

"See? It doesn't bother her," Belle reasoned. "She loves him."

He snorted. "Yes, well, a diaper full of crap doesn't bother her, either. She's an infant." Rumple nuzzled his daughter's rosy cheek and brushed a dark curl off her forehead. "Surprised he's still asleep, it's nearly seven. I expected he'd be howling at me to remove the wards."

Belle pressed her lips together. "He's not here."

"Not here?" Rumplestiltskin tugged on his earlobe. "Where is he then?"

Belle studied the little plastic bowl of cereal and fed Missy another bite. The baby smacked her lips. "He's at Neal's."

"Since when?" he asked, clenching his teeth until they squeaked.

"Since he snuck out this morning." At last Belle met his eyes, her lips quaking with the effort not to smile.

"He knows how to break my wards?" Rumple flung his hands in the air, and bolts of lightning exploded against the ceiling. Missy pointed and laughed, waving her plump fists at the brilliant lightshow.

"This reaction? This right here is why I didn't tell you," his wife said calm-as-you-please, and swooped her arm in a wide arc to deliver another spoonful of cereal to the baby.

He sputtered. "You knew? Stop making airplane noises and listen to me. I'm his father, Belle!"

"Yes, my love, you are. And if you weren't here to remind me, that vein throbbing in your neck certainly would," she said, setting down the spoon. "Gideon is with Neal. He's safe."

"How can you be so calm?" he snapped.

"Because this problem has a simple solution." She walked to the stove, poured him a cup of tea, and set it on the kitchen table.

"Oh, I see. Simple. Why don't you illuminate the situation for the rest of us, please?" He tossed four lumps of sugar into his cup and stirred violently, sloshing tea all over the table.

Belle sighed and mopped up the mess with a burp cloth. "One of us happens to be a very powerful sorcerer, and it's not me. You want our son to control his abilities? Teach him, Rumple. We've known he has magic since he was three months old, but you haven't nurtured his gifts. Why is that?"

He shook his head and gripped the back of a kitchen chair. Belle didn't know what she was asking. "He's just a boy."

Missy squawked and waved her arms for more breakfast, her mouth gaping like a baby bird.

"Yes. And he needs his Papa's particular brand of guidance." Belle started shoveling mashed strawberries into Missy's mouth. "Rumple, don't you see? He's trying to be like you. You have to teach him how."

"Baelfire never…" he pinched his nose. His oldest son had wanted to be anything but like his father.

"That was Baelfire, love. Gideon is unique. All our children are."

As she fed and cooed at their daughter, Rumplestiltskin studied his wife's profile. He felt a stab of guilt at his outburst. A six-year-old and a six-month-old were a handful on the best days, and the dark circles shadowing Belle's eyes revealed how hard she was working to care for their family. He shouldn't be adding to her stress. And Neal? What would he say when he brought Gideon home?

They were doing their best, weren't they? Belle certainly was, but he seemed to be striking out at fatherhood. Doubts plagued him, that nagging feeling that he was missing something vital.

He dropped into a kitchen chair and wiped his hand over his face. "I thought we wanted Gideon to be good. Light. Like the hero in that book you're always reading to him at bedtime."

There was a brief silence, then Belle pulled out the chair beside him. She sat down and covered his hand with hers. "I think I'm beginning to understand."

"Do you?" he pleaded, his voice like gravel. "Because I don't know…I can't…"

"Rumplestiltskin, you are a good man. Time and again you've turned darkness into light. You always put the people you love first. Me. Baelfire. Henry. Gideon. This sweet girl right here." She tugged on Missy's chubby toes, eliciting a drool-filled giggle. "You can show Gideon how to do the same."

"What if his magic is dark?" he whispered, closing his eyes. The idea that he may have passed a cursed form of magic onto their boy...he couldn't bear to think on it.

"Harmless pranks aren't evidence of dark magic. You've said so yourself." Belle stroked the back of his hand with her fingertips.

"And what if I fail?" Gods, he felt helpless and stupid and utterly out of his depth. He had been a disappointing father to Neal in every way, and now he was failing all over again—a veritable house of cards, ready to collapse at the slightest wrong move.

"Stop that," Belle said, squeezing his hands. She shook her head. "You're wrong about yourself."

"How am I wrong?" he challenged, trying to yank his fingers out of her grip. But she only tightened her hold.

"So you had a disagreement with Gideon, and this time he got the best of you." She shrugged. "It wasn't the first and it won't be the last. I'll have my share of struggles with him, too. With _both_ of them," she said, nodding toward Missy. "Don't you remember when I first met Neal? How difficult it was for all of us? But we learned how to love each other. We grew together and we became a family."

"This is different," he protested. "I'm—"

"Wonderful," Belle finished for him. She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around his waist. His heart pounded as she lay her head against his chest. "We all fall short; we all make mistakes. I'm far from perfect, myself. But you won't fail in this. I believe in you, Rumple. I believe in you, and our son does, too."

"The last time I tried to teach someone magic, it was Regina. I nearly destroyed her life, twisting her pain, teaching her to channel hate." He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I-I'm afraid."

"I know, but you've changed since then," she said, squeezing him so tight he could scarcely breathe. "You've worked through your pain and recognized your mistakes. So let's make a deal, ok? I'll be the brave one, and you be the resourceful one. We can do what's best for Gideon, but we have to do it together."

"You're right." Rumple smiled down at her, cupping her cheek. She turned her head and kissed his palm. _Gods, she was a wonder!_ She would be brave for all of them, and he would teach Gideon how to use his magic for good. But first he needed a plan.

"Sweetheart," he said, standing up and bringing her gently to her feet. "I might be centuries older than you, but you have all the wisdom of the ages." He brushed a kiss to her lips as he turned to leave.

"Where are you going? It's Saturday," she called out as he strode toward the back door that led outside to the basement.

"I won't be long, my darling. I'm going…I need to spin." With a deep breath, he stepped outside into the humid summer air.

* * *

After Neal and Gideon had filled their stomachs with bagels and played a couple of rounds of Minecraft, it was time to take the kid home. Keeping one arm slung around Gideon's shoulder, he was about to knock on Papa and Belle's door when the kid wriggled away.

"Neal, wait!"

"For what?" He squinted at the doorknocker. "We're here. This is your house."

"Can't we go to Dark Star Pharmacy for an icee?" he wheedled.

Neal sighed, knowing a stalling tactic when he heard one. "You mean one of those sickly sweet cherry slushies?"

Gideon nodded. "They have blue raspberry, too."

"You know, whenever Henry does something wrong, he tries to buy time by begging for hot chocolate," Neal said.

Huge brown hopeful eyes stared at him, that cherubic face stretching into a winning smile.

Neal snorted. He'd seen that puppy dog look before. Hell, he'd _used_ that puppy dog look before. "Gold Family Charm doesn't work on me, pal." He waggled a finger. "You snuck out. Now you've had your fun, and it's time to face the music."

"You sound like Papa," Gideon complained.

O _h gods, it was happening. He was turning into his father._

"Hello!" Neal called out to Belle and Papa above the roaring in his ears and unlatched the front door. Seizing Gideon by the hand, he led him through the foyer into the living room.

The room was empty, but Neal heard footsteps upstairs. Belle was mostly likely with Missy, putting her down for her morning nap. Suddenly, his father appeared in a swirl of crimson smoke.

"Papa! Hey!" Neal moved behind Gideon to rest his hands on his shoulders. Yeah, the kid had done wrong by taking off this morning, but he needed an ally. Especially if their father was still pissed off.

"Gideon!" Papa crossed his arms over his chest, emotion softening his sharp features. "We've been worried, son."

"Papa?" Gideon's voice quivered. "Are you still mad at me?"

"Actually…"

Neal could tell by the look on his father's face that it was regret, not anger, that dogged him. _Good. Pop could take over, and he could go back to bed. It was Saturday morning, for crying out loud._

"Well, here he is," Neal interrupted, relaxing his grip on Gideon's shoulders. "Home, safe and sound. I even fed him. See you guys soon." He waved and spun on his heel to leave.

"Oh. No, no. You harbored the fugitive. You're staying." Rumple jabbed a finger toward the living room.

Neal closed his eyes. "C'mon, Pop…"

"Sit down, Baelfire," his father said with a grim smile. "I'm calling a family conference."

He groaned. There was one non-negotiable rule in their family: if there was an argument or a dispute between two or more family members and you were involved, you stayed and talked the problem out until it was solved.

"But this isn't…I'm not…" He backed toward the door, a pointless attempt to postpone the inevitable.

His father hiked a dark brow. "He came to your house, and that means you're involved. Besides, you're raising Henry, and look how well he's turning out. I could use the moral support."

"Fine," Neal grumbled. _A smart man knew when to give in_. "I'll stay."

Satisfied, his father nodded, then pivoted into the hallway. "Belle!" he bellowed up the stairs.

"Already here, Rumple," she said from behind. She thrust Missy into Neal's arms with a wink, then leaned down to hug Gideon. "Mother's intuition."

"Morning, Belle." He smiled at his stepmother then settled on the sofa with Missy cradled in the crook of his arm. "Hey, angel." He crooned to her, then kissed the baby's auburn curls. Her sweet scent carried a magic all its own. "Come on up, Gid," Neal teased, patting the spot beside him. "She won't bite you; she only has a few teeth now."

Gideon scowled at their sister, but climbed up on the couch, squirming toward Neal till their thighs were smashed together.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin's three children looked at him, expectation etching their features. He glanced at Belle, whose gaze was also fixed on him. All of them were waiting for him to do something. Anything. Even little Missy was quiet and attentive, her wide blue eyes gleaming with innocent hope.

Gideon looked fearful, and was pressed as close to Baelfire as was possible. He was grateful for their bond, but he wished his sons felt as comfortable with their father as they did with each other. _How could a heart thrill and ache at the same time?_

He paced in front of the fireplace. He'd spent two hours at his wheel, trying to weave a plan as he would a fine fabric or delicate strands of pure gold. But now, facing his family, he felt no closer to a solution than he had last night when he'd shouted at Gideon and barricaded him in his room. Everything in him wanted to cancel this farce of a family meeting and disappear into the basement again. But running away from problems was never an acceptable solution—he'd learned that the hard way.

He squared his shoulders. "Do you know why we're here?" he asked at last.

Gideon nodded and piped up, "You hate my magic. You're good at it, but I'm bad, so you don't want me messing everything up."

Rumplestiltskin flinched. Leave it to the child to cut straight to the heart of the matter. "Gideon, no…" He sighed, searching for words. All the feelings inside of him were locked away; when it came to expressing emotion, he lacked eloquence, and uncertainly fed his despair. He sought Belle's gaze again and she nodded, encouraging him. "That's not strictly true, son. I do want you to develop your talents. What I don't want is for you to be like I once was—someone who used magic for the wrong reasons, or even for the right reasons in the wrong way."

Gideon chewed his lip, considering.

"What Pop means is, magic is something we have to be careful with," Neal said, putting a comforting arm around Gideon. "It's not something we can take for granted. With great power comes great responsibility."

He nodded at Neal, grateful for the clarification.

"But Papa's a hero." Confusion filled Gideon's face as he looked at each of them. "You all are."

"No. At least I wasn't always," Rumplestiltskin said. "Your mother thinks I am, but I've never believed it."

"That's silly."

"No, it's far from silly." He sat down on the couch and faced Gideon. "Long, long ago, centuries before you were a glint in my eye, I became the Dark One. My inability to control my magic cost me everything—I lost your brother because of my weakness. Through the grace of the gods, he came back to me. But I will never make that mistake again—not with you or anyone else I love. Fathers, good fathers, want better lives for their own children than they build for themselves."

Shame washed over him, and he met Baelfire's gaze over Gideon's head. He would never be able to apologize enough for making his firstborn believe that power was more valuable than he was.

"It's ok now," Neal said, patting Gideon's knee. "Papa and I are fine. I didn't always understand and accept his powers. Magic has scared me ever since I was young. But because I know he loves me, that he's using his magic to help people, now I know it's ok."

"That's why you don't want me to use magic, Papa?" Gideon asked. "You're afraid, like Neal was?"

"Yes, and it's my own fault." Admitting it was hard, but it wasn't too late to change. "I've been remiss in your training. That's why you're going to start coming with me to the shop after school. We're going to look at some spell books, mix simple potions…"

"For real?" Gideon's eyes glowed with excitement.

"Yes," He smiled a bit, relieved that Gideon was warming to the idea of learning.

"Awesome!"

"It won't be easy." He rested his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Light magic isn't driven by hatred or anger. It's fueled by love."

"So if I want to do magic the right way, like you, I have to use love?" Gideon edged closer to him. "How?"

"By channeling your energy toward someone important—someone you care about." He turned toward Belle. "For me it's your mother. She makes me a better man."

"What about me?"

"It's your choice, but I thinl you should use your love for someone that you sometimes have a hard time loving. What do you think?" He looked at Missy, who was cooing at Baelfire as she stroked his beard with her tiny fingers.

"Missy?" Gideon echoed, sounding outraged. "But she stinks!"

Belle snorted and Baelfire wheezed a laugh then covered it with a cough. Rumplestiltskin prayed for patience—apparently the room was filled with children of all ages.

"Gideon," he said, "your sister is a part of this family. As important as anyone else. We understand you might be jealous sometimes of all the time and attention that Missy needs, but you don't really dislike her, do you?"

He scrunched his face like a prune. " I guess not." His tiny shoulders slumped. "I…I'm sorry, Papa. I wanted to help you and Mommy."

"That's all right, my boy. We know you mean well," he said with a smile. "You've been trying to help us in the only way you know how. I'm sorry for doubting you."

"That's right," Belle said, kneeling in front of Gideon. "We know you don't mean to hurt Missy with your magic. Spending time with Papa at the shop is going to be good for all of us. While Missy's learning to walk and talk, you're going to be growing up in your own special way. There's no one better than your father to show you how to use all those feelings and abilities, and do you know why?"

Spellbound, Gideon shook his head. Rumple couldn't blame him; he was as enthralled by Belle as his son was.

"You are so much like your Papa." Belle stroked Gideon's brow; her eyes shining with mother love. "He's the best man I know. The best husband, the best father, that anyone could ask for. Because you remind me of Papa…that's one of the reasons I love you so much. He's always been my handsome hero and now you are, too."

Tears scalded Rumplestiltskin's eyes. Each time Belle praised him, his underserving soul swelled with happiness. Right now he thought he would burst with pride.

Gideon hurtled into his arms, making the moment all the sweeter. "Papa, can we start my training today?"

"Yes," He stroked the boy's narrow back and closed his eyes, savoring the warmth and softness of his child. "I love you, son. I couldn't be more proud, do you know that?"

"I love you, too, Papa," he whispered.

His boy trembled in his arms and he held him close until he squirmed. Rumple chuckled and released him, and Gideon scampered off to play.

Missy, who had been content in Baelfire's arms, grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking hard enough to make him yelp. His cry startled the baby, and she started to sob.

Belle rushed in to rescue Bae, scooping their daughter up. She patted Missy's bottom, rocking and shushing her with a gentle sway of her hips until the baby nuzzled into Belle's shoulder to chew on her blouse.

Neal ambled toward him and cleared his throat. "So, uh, that was interesting."

"Yes," Rumple replied, giving his oldest son a grateful look. "Thank you for being what Gideon needed this morning. And for staying."

"No problem." Neal patted him on the shoulder and nodded toward Gideon, who was digging through the toy box, his tongue wedged between his teeth in concentration. "You did good, Pop. You did real good."

* * *

"Feel better, kiddo?" Neal asked, launching a matchbox car across the coffee table with his free hand. Gideon was engrossed in his toys, and Missy was in his arms once more, babbling happily around the teething ring in her mouth.

"Yeah." Gideon reached out to touch Missy's dimpled hand. "Papa's going to teach me magic, and Missy's gonna help. I guess she ain't so bad."

"What did I tell you before about that word?" he asked, low and urgent. He glanced at Belle to make sure she hadn't heard Gideon slaughtering the English language, but she was across the room with Papa, her arms wrapped around his neck and her eyes bright with joy.

"What are they doing? Ewww. Gross," Gideon wrapped his own hands around his throat, pretending to choke. "They're in love."

Missy dropped her toy and giggled at Gideon's expression. He gagged himself again, encouraging laughter.

"They used to do that to me, too, buddy. They still do. Last week, I ate lunch with them at Granny's and I think they forgot I was there." He chuckled, remembering his first hamburger dinner with Papa and Belle. Belle had been so nervous that she started playing footsie with Papa under the table—and had accidentally come on to him instead. "Some things never change."

"Did you get to eat their fries?" Gideon asked solemnly.

He laughed. "Do you ever think of anything but food?"

"Yep. Cars, magic, games. Can we go for icees now?"

The pleading look on the kid's face undid him. _He was getting soft in his old age._ "Why not? Get your sneakers. We'll put Missy in her stroller and take her along so Papa and Belle can have some time for just the two of them."

"Neal?" Gideon asked, slipping his small hand into his as they headed toward the door. "Does love make magic? Or does magic make love?"

Floored by the perceptive question, he eyed the kid askance, then glanced back at Belle and Papa. They were snuggled on the couch together now, murmuring endearments, content to bask in each other's presence. No matter what happened in their world, the love between them was a constant, a reminder to Neal that hope always had a home.

He smiled at his brother. "Both, Gideon. Both."

 _The End_


End file.
